


in the light of you

by undomesticatedmarshmallow



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:48:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29321934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undomesticatedmarshmallow/pseuds/undomesticatedmarshmallow
Summary: After Yona's coronation as Queen of Kouka, she holds another, private ritual between herself and the four dragons by her side.
Relationships: Yona/Four Dragon Warriors (Akatsuki no Yona)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	in the light of you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sheliak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheliak/gifts).



> i swear i started writing at least three different things before finally finishing this one slkmfslkfm i hope i captured some semblance of 'dragon harem' well! ;w;

When she dances, her movements command the attention of even the gods. It's not the fierce statement it was for her first performance, with the hilt of a sword in her delicately strong hands. This time is a softer scene, with the flowing length of her dress fanning out around her in silky waves as the sound of her spirit spells out a commitment. 

For them. _To_ them. 

It's a special show in the center of a room once full of supportive faces and voices, now empty sans the four loyal followers that stand before her now. Her dance is a coronation of a different kind, a spiritual and unrehearsed thing that no other is privy to. She spins and twirls, arms spread out, lifting, beckoning, welcoming without words. 

She calls Kija first with an upturned palm of invitation, and he accepts with a bow, all proper and formality before Kouka's new queen. She could lead him with ease ** _—_** she has all the grace and command for such, after all, but she looks up at him with a smile and shakes her head at his confusion. 

"Do what comes naturally," she says, giving a gentle squeeze to his hands. Her fingers run over the pattern of his scales in an intimate gesture, and Kija swallows back something that he recognizes as nerves. 

His moves are a bit awkward at first, hesitant and questioning despite knowing the precious dance from his village by heart. Under her calm and curious gaze, he has always felt weak, far more than what the blood in him could ever amount to; there's color in his face, cheeks warm with feeling as he pulls her close and takes in a deep breath. 

Jae-ha strums an encouraging, simple tune on a gifted lyre, and Kija catches the rhythm with silent gratitude as he begins to dance in earnest. Yona learns quickly ** _—_** she always has, and he has watched her grow from an uncertain child to the immovable presence she is today. Now is no different. Just as he admired her tenacity and diligent practice with her bow and arrow back then, he admires the slight furrow of concentration in the center of her brow as she watches his feet now, counting beneath her breath as he leads her step by step in an introduction to this part of his village's culture. 

"It's meant for special celebrations," he explains, a fond look on his face as Yona stumbles and corrects her position. "It is meant to be shared with the person most important in one's life."

Curious, Yona tilts her head. "You've danced it before, Kija?"

Kija shakes his head. "I haven't. I've only had practice. Granny would insist that I be knowledgeable when my wedding day were to come."

There's something knowing in Yona's eyes that leaves his heart beating flush and fast against the space of his chest, as though wanting to burst out to take her hand itself. He flashes over his words, scrambles over their implications.

"O-Of course, something like marriage would be out of the question in this case! I had simply ** _—_**!"

His train of thought is pushed away when she pulls him down to her and his words fall muffled against the lips pressed to his, chaste yet chastising all at once. Kija's heart thrums in his ears; he freezes in place, his hands still held in hers when she pulls back, eyes sparkling.   
  


"Kija," she intones simply, and he feels the weight of his name down to his very bones, right down to his week-feeling knees. Her fingers reach upwards to card through his hair, and something about the gentle touch nearly makes his eyes water. 

She doesn't say it aloud, but it's in her eyes, in her touch, in the way her lips meet his once again, stealing his breath despite the simple brush of them.   
  


_Don’t worry. It’s okay. I love you._

She pulls him into the dance again, a smile permanently on his lips. Kija tries ** _—_** and fails ** _—_** to keep up in spite of his sudden lightheadedness. 

* * *

Shin-ah is next, though when she calls upon him, he simply stands before her, unmoving.   
  


"I don't know any," he says, voice soft and apologetic and shameful as he looks down. He can feel Yona's kindness as she cups his face and coaxes his gaze up, their eyes meeting without a sliver of hesitation.

"I'll teach you one I know, then. Follow me."

It's nothing more than a simple sway, shuffling steps that move from from side to side. There’s nothing complicated, just the shifting of their bodies to the simple tune of Jae-ha's music ** _—_** Shin-ah realizes, in a dawning moment, that it's for the sake of her being able to watch his face and keep his stare pulled to her, rather than allowing him to be distracted with concentration. Something stirs deep within his chest.

He remembers the days when he'd been afraid of eye contact with anyone. He remembers his longing and the fear in equal spades, can recall upon them with surprising ease, and yet it all seems so far away whenever she’s near. She was always a light in the darkness behind his mask, shining bright and unrestrained, believing and trusting in him when he could hardly do so himself. He's grown so used to it that now, when she stares at him so warmly, he can hardly will himself to look away.

He’s caught in her and the way she so shamelessly holds his everything, connecting him to the others and recoloring his world entirely. The dragon within him urges his feelings forward as he brings their dance to a halt and kneels suddenly, her hand still around his. 

“Shin-ah?” She tilts her head in question, a flicker of concern in the sound of her voice.

Shin-ah doesn’t answer her in words, but in action: by raising her hand to his lips, upturning it and pressing a kiss to its palm, allowing it to say more than he could ever bring himself to. He lets it linger, as though his very intent can print an eternal mark, one to stay with her for all of time.

His heart beats steady, but loud. Deafening. A flash of anxiety washes over him. 

“Stand, Shin-ah,” comes her soft command. Shin-ah follows it unquestioningly, soothed by the sound of her voice long before he dares to take in her expression. 

She doesn't give him the time to. His breath is sharp when he inhales, uncertain of what to do with himself and feeling all but undeserving when she kisses him just as she had Kija before.

He loses track of time in the softness of her lips, the gentle reassurance of her hand on his cheek. There's a trembling ache deep within him, a strange yet warm feeling that he could sink into for eternity. 

Instead, when they separate, Shin-ah simply smiles. 

* * *

Jae-ha tries to weasel his way out of it, as though it were a contract of some sort that he refused to sign. Yona’s cheeks swell, her face scrunching in indignation and bringing laughter dangerously close to his lips. 

“Who will play the music?” He tries, plucking a few strings as if to illustrate his point.

“We don’t need any!” 

A somber, serious expression twists his features as Jae-ha holds a hand over his heart. “My, on such a special day, would you truly have my sully your innocence in front of an audience?”

She blinks at him owlishly, understanding nothing more than the fact that he's stalling. A thin sheen of sweat forms at his brow, but he simply smirks, a sly look in his eye. 

“Have you forgotten where I’ve been, dear Yona?” Jae-ha all but purrs, standing with a flourish as he draws close. She meets him unflinchingly, and he can’t help but wonder how long this will go on. 

He has to pull something drastic.

An arm loops around her waist, winding like a snake, bold and nonplussed as he pulls her flush to his front. She rewards him with a startled squeak, and he can’t ignore the rush of knowing that despite all of her hardships and power, she can still sometimes fluster so easily when caught off guard. He brings a hand to caress her face, fingers hooking beneath her chin to tilt her head upwards.

His heart feels ready to explode.

“Well? Are you still so certain of this ritual, _your Majesty_?”

  
  


He knows the answer before she does, and he can’t tell if the rushed beating in his chest is panic or admiration for the straightforward yet somehow still so naïve girl that accepts his challenge without question, calling his bluff with a simple inquiry.

“Is this what you want, Jae-ha?”

He tries to keep his cool. It’s what he’s always been good at, isn’t it?” “But of course, Yona, dear! Hasn’t Hak always warned you to be careful around me for this very reason?”

It’s not like he hasn’t noticed the lack of Kija’s reprimands for his sleazy advances despite the glare he can feel boring into his back. It’s not like he misses the subtle way that Yona adjusts herself against him, relaxed and poised. He knows, and he knows well, exactly how she stares through to the innermost parts of him, tearing down all of his defenses.

She’s always been so, _so_ dangerous.

“Then this is how we’ll do it,” she says with a firm air of finality. His protests are scrambling on his tongue for purchase as his thoughts swirl in panic. He wants this but he doesn’t—he doesn’t want this _like this_.

He wishes she couldn’t unravel him as easily as she does, dragging his honest self to the surface. Had it ever been in his control, he would keep it all buried down and in secrets; he knows it’s not quite in his hands anymore, though. It hasn’t been ever since they’d met in Awa all that time ago.

“Yona, wait.” 

He can’t deal with that blazing determination in her eyes, the way she steels herself for the trial he’d all too willingly put her through, knowing in her heart and trusting that he’d never truly stray out of bounds. Is it faith in him that leaves her so certain, or the control that he knows she holds in the palm of her hands? He’s not sure he wants to know the answer either way.

Zeno begins to hum, a bright and lovely tune that somehow knows that the battle is over, and finally Jae-ha sighs in defeat. He adjusts his grip, shifts their stances into something more appropriate and less _tempting_ —"Like this, here," ** _—_** and leads her into a rhythm that he creates. 

He moves smoothly, twirls and spins her along with all the expertise of a true dancer—something he’s not, mind, but he’s more than experienced enough to fake the smaller details when he needs to. There’s a sparkling light in her eyes, awe and amazement in the slight part of her lips.

Jae-ha wants nothing more than to be able to deny himself from meeting them first, tries to convince himself of his own ulterior motives as his tongue swipes against her lower lip, but he knows better.   
  


He knows better. And she doesn’t let him forget it, not for a second nor a minute nor for the rest of their lives. She seals him with a smile, meeting him without fear as she returns his gesture.

The improvised tune had stopped playing long ago. Jae-ha holds her close and pretends not to realize. 

* * *

Before Jae-ha has the chance to return to his lyre, Zeno is grabbing Yona by the hand and spinning her around, laughter peeling from his lips. It’s as infectious as always—she’s joining him within a mere few moments, her smile bright and wide.

It suits her far more than the serious expressions she’s had lately, Zeno thinks.

He’s seen it, knows the stress that she bears so well. She’s every bit as strong as Hiryuu when it comes to spirit alone; despite everything, she hasn’t broken. Zeno could be nothing short of proud of her. 

But he doesn’t want her to forget that smile of hers, either.   
  


Their dance makes no sense. There’s no pattern nor rhythm, only a feeling and instinct to move them from one side of the room to the next, bouncing along with stumbling steps. When they trip over each other, it leaves them in a heap of giggles in the center of the throne room, the bright sound echoing off the walls. 

He looks at her with the weight of unfathomable years behind his fond smile and kind eyes, and she looks back with the same love and promise she's shared with the others in her own. Their kiss is silly thing despite themselves—or maybe it’s fitting, the meeting of their lips being around breathless giggles and laughter, like a secret that only the two of them know. 

He helps her to her feet at the end of it, her hand in his. The Yona that stands before them now is not simply the Queen of Kouka, but King Hiryuu, and even her benevolent throne sings when she alights upon it, guided by the timeless Yellow Dragon as she signals an end to her newly-created tradition. 

She closes her eyes, taking in a deep breath. Much awaits her from here, hardships and victories alike. Some may even be more arduous than anything she's met before. But she will not falter. A country free of strife and tragedy... she'll see it shaped with her own hands if need be.   
  


When she opens her eyes once more, fiery gaze falling on the bowed heads of the four kneeling dragons before her, she gently chastises herself in reminder.   
  


She has more than just herself, now. Together, they'll see the Kingdom of Kouka prosper.


End file.
